


Helicpoter Mom

by thatsoccercoach



Series: Which Door? [24]
Category: Outlander & Related Fandoms, Outlander Series - Diana Gabaldon
Genre: Family Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2019-03-23 13:16:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13788528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatsoccercoach/pseuds/thatsoccercoach
Summary: Finding a preschool for Faith and Bree isn't as simple as it seems on the surface.





	Helicpoter Mom

                                                       

The article clutched in her hand was entitled, “Are You a Helicopter Parent?” and right now Claire’s emotions could most certainly be described as at least as high as a helicopter and just as easy to change direction.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ,” she huffed under her breath for what was most certainly not the first time since the “helpful” preschool teacher had pointed her toward the stack of glossy, printed articles meant to help parents of prospective and newly-enrolled students. She absolutely _was not_ a helicopter mom. _Absolutely not._

“Come Sassenach,” Jamie cajoled, attempting to pry the crumpled flyer from her hand. “Ye must admit that ye do tend to coddle wee Faith a bit.” Claire scowled ferociously and Jamie quickly attempted to backtrack. “It wouldna be unreasonable at all if ye did though.”

Faith, who currently had her arms around Jamie’s neck and was gently stroking the short hairs at the base of his skull, was both a sensitive and fragile child. Born prematurely, she had staggered doctors with her will to survive. That aside, it didn’t mean that she still didn’t struggle from time to time in certain areas.

Developmental milestones that other children reached with age tended to be slow in coming for Faith. She began to walk long after other children her age ran, though Faith always walked with purpose. She barely spoke at all until the age of three though she’d clearly been listening. When she did speak, it was clear and thoughtful beyond her years. She just seemed in no hurry to meet anyone’s developmental benchmarks but her own. Then, there was her predisposition to illness. Any germ that came into her vicinity seemed to penetrate her immune system’s defenses and attack her with a vengeance. In fact, that was what had prompted this entire situation.

“Jamie, there is no way you could consider my response to be inappropriate or interfering! That boy had licked two of those raisins before offering them to Faith! For goodness sake, he extracted the third one from his left nostril only moments before! Can you imagine how long she would have been ill had she actually put those in her mouth?” Claire shuddered violently at the thought desiring nothing more than to snatch her baby from Jamie’s arms and shelter her from everything the world had that might harm her.

“Aye Sassenach, I saw. That’s why I said it wouldna be unreasonable if ye stepped in from time to time. Faith is a bright lass though. She wouldna have done anything. Had it been Bree…” he left the sentence dangling and glanced down at Bree who was currently poking at a shriveled worm that had gotten stuck in a puddle.

Claire snorted. He _was_ right about that. Two-year-old Bree would have tackled the boy and then would have forcibly taken the raisins. All of them. “It’s just that being a mother is so…hard!” She nearly stomped her foot in exasperation as tears burned the backs of her eyes.

“Aye lass,” he chuckled. “I dinna think anyone ever called parenting a simple task. But ye are the perfect mother for our girls.” He took her chin with his free hand and nudged it so that she’d look into his eyes. “You _know_ what is right for our wee lasses. I have faith in ye. Don’t doubt yourself, _Mo Nighean Donn_.”

Claire leaned gently into her husband’s side and his one free arm slid around her.

“Now, this isna the only preschool we can look at though. I feel as though that wasna the best place for Faith nor for Bree once she is old enough. Now, shall we keep looking?”

“Could we maybe find something that allows us to be more involved? They _are_ our children, after all,” she emphasized, releasing the vestiges of her frustration and doubts. “Come on, Lovie,” she looked at Bree who had moved on from the worm to some equally unappealing substance on the sidewalk. “Shall we have a snack and look at another preschool?”

Faith abruptly lifted her head from her father’s broad shoulders. “Why would she need a snack, Mama? She already shared a little boy’s raisins.”


End file.
